


You're Stuck Here with Me

by handsinforests



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Femslash February
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 16:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17790908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handsinforests/pseuds/handsinforests
Summary: She knew this was a bad idea. Who went to visit their old high school friend in NYC the day before Valentine’s anyway? Anya sighed, hefting the bags in her hands. Why was Clarke Griffin of all people so special that she couldn’t wait until after a national holiday just to see the friend she’d ghosted before her move to New York.





	You're Stuck Here with Me

She knew this was a bad idea. Who went to visit their old high school friend in NYC the day before Valentine’s anyway? The only reason Clarke even reached out to her in the first place was because Lexa had reintroduced them. She just couldn’t have possibly waited any longer, as if going four years without contact was her self-imposed limit. Anya sighed, hefting the bags in her hands. Why was Clarke Griffin of all people so special that she couldn’t wait until after a national holiday just to see the friend she’d ghosted before her move to New York.

Anya’s boots made temporary dents in the snow as she walked along the sidewalk, silently thanking Lexa for the early Christmas gift of warm stockings. She should’ve realized she wouldn’t be able to park any closer to the New York high rise, but it still sucked having to walk all the way to the front door, where it looked like she’d need a key card to get in. Shit. Dropping her luggage, she fumbled with her gloves, dragging one off and huddling over herself to call Clarke before her fingers froze off. 

“Clarke?” 

“Hey, yeah, where are you?” Clarke answered, apparently having started eating dinner without her. 

“Outside, you didn’t mention a key card or anything.” 

“Oh, right, I’ll be down in a sec.” Clarke hung up, not bothering to hear Anya’s response. Typical.

Anya tugged her glove back on before shoving both hands in her coat pockets, shifting her weight to retain warmth in the February chill. After what felt like hours, Clarke’s head poked through the front door, atop it a Santa’s hat. “Hey you, come on in.” 

Anya grumbled a thanks as she picked her bags back up and caught the door. “You mind helping a lady with her bags?” She (sneered), handing off her two heaviest bags to the other blonde. She took off her beanie and folded it into her pocket as she took in her surroundings. The lobby’s ceiling was a little low, but not by so much so that there wasn’t space for a large Christmas tree decorated with hearts in the far right toward the staircase. The entire room smelled like peppermint and was well-lit, for which she was thankful. 

“Come on, you.” Clarke nudged at her arm. “Upstairs we go.” Clarke lead her toward the elevator, doorway adorned with garland. The shorter blonde pressed the up button, leaving them in an awkward silence. “So, um,” Clarke started, rocking from heel to toe, “how was your flight?” 

“Fine, could’ve been better without a kid kicking me in the back the entire time.” Anya replied.

“I can imagine.” Clarke muttered. This wasn’t what she had in mind when she’d invited the other woman to spend a week with her catching up. Though she couldn’t have expected a shrill ‘Oh my God, Clarke!’ from Anya, who had upstaged her at the Polis County Art Fair and was the only good part about their senior prom. The same woman who’d kissed her graduation night. But Clarke was above holding grudges, of course, that’s why she invited Anya over. 

The two stepped out of the way for the couple making their way off the elevator as it chimed open, Clarke walking in first and claiming the left wall as her domain. She pressed the 5th floor button, wondering if Anya was still just as impatient and disapproving of small talk. 

“So, I made lasagna.” 

“Alright.” 

“It has meat, so uh, I hope you’re not a vegetarian.”

“I’m not.” 

“Cool.” Clarke trailed off, wishing the elevator would go faster. Finally they came to the 5th floor, and she beelined for her apartment, hoping Anya had the sense to follow at a good pace. Unlocking her door, she held it open for the other woman and locked it after her, taking a moment to inhale and exhale a breath before turning and shrugging off her coat. “I can take your coat if you’d like.” She offered, motioning to the rack by the door. 

“Yeah, thanks.” Anya took her gloves off and tucked them into the right side pocket of her coat before taking it off as well, handing it to Clarke to hang up. “I figure you’re a shoes off kind of person, correct?” She didn’t wait for an answer, already bending over to undo the zipper on her boots. 

“Uh, yeah, you can just put them anywhere.” Clarke gestured to the living room, glad that she’d convinced Raven to spend the night at Octavia’s place, as if she could handle any more embarrassment. She made her way to the kitchen while Anya busied herself taking off her other boot and slid into the chair at the opposite end of the kitchenette table. “Need something to drink?” 

“Just water, Clarke.” She hated the way this felt normal, like this was a daily routine for them, her coming home from a long trip or work and Clarke having dinner ready on the table—

“Anya?” Clarke had a sort of smirk on her face, as if she could read Anya’s thoughts. “I asked if you wanted sparkling or regular.” 

“Oh, right, just regular.” Anya blushed, pulling out her phone to avoid Clarke’s eyes. 

Clarke grabbed a glass from the cupboard, filling it up from the kitchen faucet. “Would you mind grabbing plates for the lasagna, they’re in the cupboard right next to the microwave.” She set the glass down as Anya was getting up, putting them a little too close for comfort. Clarke smelled like citrus, like always. 

“And the silverware?” Anya questioned, handing the plates to Clarke who was ready with the spatula. 

“Third drawer on your right.” Anya found the utensils and grabbed a set of fork and knife for the both of them, setting them down on either side of the table. She sat down, running her palms over her dark jeans as Clarke put a sizable portion of the dish on both plates and set hers down along with a napkin. The shorter blonde took her seat across from Anya, rolling up her sleeves to avoid getting any sauce on them before clearing her throat and taking a fork to her dinner. 

They sat for a moment, taking small bites of the dish before Clarke sighed and rested her fork on her napkin. “I suppose you’re wondering why I invited you over here after we didn’t speak for so long.” 

“Well I’ve got a few ideas. To embarrass me somehow, to prove you’re too good to hold grudges, or, for some reason, you need me.” She leaned forward, emphasizing the last option as if it were the one she thought was most likely to be correct.

“Well I don’t hold grudges but no, that isn’t the reason.” Clarke bit her lip, running a hand through her hair. “I heard from Lexa that you’d be in town, so I wanted to catch up.”

“As if you couldn’t text me to do that?” Anya raised an eyebrow. 

“You hate texting.” 

“True,” Anya sighed. “But I don’t think this is exactly a cause for offering a room in your apartment for me, Clarke. Whatever happened to coffee?” 

“Well there wasn’t a guarantee you’d accept. I’m not planning on going to LA anytime soon but you were already visiting here, so.” Clarke shrugs, trailing off at the end of her sentence. 

“Just tell me why I’m here, Clarke. Because I’m not going to tell you that you were right all along or that I totally should’ve come up here and got by on a shitty waitress job to be with you.” 

“As if I was going to bring that up, Anya,” Clarke rolls her eyes, pushing her chair back from the table. “I just wanted to catch up with you and save you from spending money on a hotel.” 

“Save me? I was staying at Lexa’s!” Anya stomps out of her chair and over to Clarke. “What is this really about?” 

“Like I said I wanted to catch up.” Clarke tried to back away but Anya kept stepping forward until Clarke’s back was against the wall. 

“You could’ve called, or emailed me. And there are coffee shops up here too. You knew I was visiting but you asked me to come to your place. What’s your deal?” 

“I, ugh,” Clarke casts her glance at the space between them. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.” 

“That required me to come over here?” 

“Anya I want to apologize and you’re making that hard for me.” 

“I’m making this hard for you? God you still haven’t learned to think about anyone but yourself. I’m gone.” Anya is already putting her shoes on when Clarke looks out the window. 

“You won’t be able to go anywhere.” 

“What?” Anya has her coat on halfway as she looks back.

“The snow. You can’t drive in it.” Clarke shoves her hands into her pockets.

“Are you fucking serious?” Anya walks over to the window, pushing past Clarke to view the snowflakes coming down and solidifying on the sidewalk and roads. Definitely not going anywhere. “Just, leave me alone.” She pulled off her boots before settling into the couch and pulling out her phone. 

Clarke sighed, wanting to continue the conversation but knowing that that wouldn’t happen. She turned and went into her room, 

She doesn’t come out again until she hears the sound of pots and pans in the kitchen. “Uh, Anya?” She pads into the living room and sees the other blonde making dinner. “Anya?” 

“Oh, hey.” Anya startles. “I put the lasagna away, I was just going to make some stroganoff.” 

“Oh, uh, stroganoff would be great. Did you need any help?” 

“No, just,” Anya rubs at the back of her neck. “I’m sorry for yelling earlier. I probably wouldn’t have agreed to coffee. I’m not sure why I agreed to this.” She gestures to the apartment. “I’d like to hear that apology.” 

“I would’ve talked to you way earlier if I was sure you didn’t hate me—”

“I never hated you, Clarke.” She’s still stirring the pasta but her eyes are on the other woman. 

“I should’ve told you I never wanted you to follow me here. When you broke up with me I just…” Clarke sighs. 

“The stroganoff is done.” Anya grabs two more plates and sets them down on the table, complete with forks and paper towels. Clarke joins her at the table, digging in to the pasta. “I didn’t make an effort either.” 

Clarke looks up. “What?” 

“It’s not like I couldn’t have found you on Facebook or asked Lexa about you. So I’m partially to blame.” 

“So, we’re good? I forgive you, if that matters.” 

Anya scoffs before softening her features. “You’re forgiven.”

Dinner passes quietly, the snow showing no signs of stopping. “Did you maybe want to watch a movie?” 

“Not a musical, Clarke.”

“Fine.” 

They settle down into the couch and watch some action movie, starting at opposite sides of the couch but by the end they’ve migrated into each other’s space, Clarke leaning on Anya’s shoulder. “Let’s go to bed.” Clarke looks up at her, the other woman’s eyes still watching the tv. Clarke tugs on her hand, turning off the tv as they go by. She leads her to her bedroom, guiding her to the bed and Anya sits on the edge, Clarke kneeling between her legs. 

“Let me make it up to you.” She trails Anya’s shirt above her head, kissing down her stomach and undoing the button and zipper on her jeans. The pants go down her legs and Clarke runs her fingers over her knees, kissing the center of her panties. 

“Oh, fuck.” 

“I’m planning on it."

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 of a 2 fic special on this Valentine's Day.


End file.
